As the phoenix rises from ashes in its glory with healing tears, so is warm and glowing dough born from shedding fungi.
The yeast feeds and grows and swells and in a final blaze at 140°F, its life is shed, making way for a child of sustenance, warmth and comfort. It is flour and romance like a Greek tragedy and Shakespearean sonnet proofed into one.
Mmm... Bread poetry. It is the story of the phoenix. From the yeasts' martyrdom, bread is born. Warm, crusty, crumbly sustenance!
I made my first bread today! It was a beautiful focaccia! I don't have the best pictures to show. I didn't have my camera handy and took pictures with my phone, so the quality isn't great. But use your imagination. It was tasty!
And then I made the half that didn't get eaten right away into a focaccia pizza!
No comments:
Post a Comment